The Last Magister
by Daniel K. English
Summary: Louise summons an immortal magic-user from a distant realm. Unfortunately, he brings bad luck. Really, really bad luck.
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a tower that spanned deep underground.

A single boy was brought to that tower, and locked inside.

Twenty years later, an army of monsters marched upon the realm. The army was vast and vicious, and a war broke out across the land. The boy, now a man, was called to the surface to fight.

The man encountered the army and, with magic unparalleled, annihilated it. Sure the man would turn on them, the realm's survivors prepared themselves for a last stand. In their eyes, they had exchanged one dark fate for another. But to their surprise, their savior—the last Magister—merely smiled, shook his head, and disappeared. A lasting peace settled over the land, and after several centuries the Magister was forgotten—

—until he returned to the tower.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

Louise took a deep breath.

"I, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, in the name of the great Five Pentagon Powers, following my fate, summon a familiar."

Silence, save the wind. All eyes were on her and the circle in the grass.

After a minute, Louise took another breath and repeated: "I, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, in the name of the great Five Pentagon Powers, following my fate, summon a familiar."

She heard a snicker. A boy she recognized as Walter was desperately reigning in his laughter, his green snake familiar hanging from his shoulder. Louise's eyes searched the onlookers, finding smirks and mean smiles on nearly all of their faces. She bit her lip and forced her tears down even as her eyes watered. A quick glance at Professor Colbert, who stood a step behind her, did little for reassurance.

"One more try, Miss Vallière," was all he said.

She masked a sniffle with a loud breath. She was a noble of the proud House of Vallière. She needed to maintain her dignity. She squeezed her eyes shut, wet trails ran down her cheeks. Wand raised once more, she recited, pouring out all the emotions she had in her breaking heart.

"I, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, in the name of the great Five Pentagon Powers, following my fate, summon a familiar!"

The wind carried her scream across the school courtyard.

How she wanted this. How she _needed_ this.

Yet the circle remained inert. Snickers turned to murmurs, then to jeers and outright laughter. Louise couldn't open her eyes lest her tears fall faster.

A familiar. One to prove her value to them, to everyone—especially _herself._

Was this the Founder's way to telling her such a thing did not exist?

"I—!"

"Miss Vallière, you have used—"

As Professor Colbert pulled her away, Louise could hear her world fall apart with the sound of shattering glass. "Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, in the name of the great Five Pentagon Powers—!"

_Look at Louise the Zero!_

_No familiar as expected. She'll always be a Zero._

"Following my fate—!"

"Quiet everyone! Please, Miss Vallière. You are causing a commotion."

"Summon a familiar!"

And the unspeakable happened. A great gust blew across the courtyard, bowling over many of the students. There were shouts and screams. Louise opened her eyes and a shadow passed across the sun. Numerous eyes went to the sky, where not a cloud drifted. There was, however, the shape of a great beast flying overhead. In the distance, all one could tell was that it was dark—and _very_ large.

More murmuring swept over the crowd. Unrest. Curiosity. A bit of fear. Professor Colbert's eyes never left the shape in the sky, and neither did Louise's.

The beast tucked in its wings and dived.

An ear-piercing scream cut into everyone's ears as the monster approached. It was truly _massive._ Its very shadow covered the entirety of the school, and even so high up the students could make out the white of its teeth. Students scrambled, and Professor Colbert shouted above the din.

When the beast landed, the ground shook, sending panicking students toppling over one another. Louise, already on the grass, kept her eyes locked on what must have been a dragon.

It stood like a human, on two hind legs, its arms crossed over a broad, scaled chest. Its horns curled into a great crest over its head. There was a bulky quality to the dragon that made it seem mighty and proud. From its armor-like scales to its sword-like wings to its powerful claws, this dragon existed for battle.

It was _magnificent._

The dragon returned her stare with its glowing red eyes. Slowly, Louise rose to her feet, ignorant of the bits of grass caught on her skirt. Her first step was hesitant, but her second was sure. Before she knew it she was running as fast as her legs would carry her towards the dragon. The dragon, in response, lowered itself onto its front legs and crawled over the low walls, brushing past the Fire Tower with a grace unfitting of its size. The force of its breath washed over her, warm and moist, drowning the noise behind her.

Louise never heard Professor Colbert scream her name, nor the shouts of her classmates.

She stepped forward as the dragon leaned in, its snout within arms reach. _There._ She gingerly placed a hand on its upper lip. It did not resist. Her heart leapt to the bottom of her throat.

She knew what to do.

"My name," she said, mirth filling her voice, "is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière."

A low, guttural noise escaped the dragon, but it did not move.

"Pentagon of the five elemental powers; bless this humble being, and make him my familiar." She leaned in and kissed the dragon, now very conscious how _large_ it was. Even with its jaw pressing against the grass, she only barely reached the top of its snout. "_My_ familiar."

The dragon withdrew its head, growled something low. And then, before her eyes, the dragon shrank, its form compressing in a way only magic could do. It alarmed her greatly as she felt the magic of the Familiar Summoning Ritual take hold, binding her to the beast. Because it didn't feel right. Because not only did she feel its spiritual being pull towards her; she felt that bond linking them _tug back._

A searing pain found itself on the back of her hand, and Louise cried out.

A pair of hands, unfamiliar but so very _right_ caught her before she fell. She saw the face of a stranger. A man of thirty or so years, with an exotic-look thanks to his rich brown skin. Short, dark red hair showed worried hazel eyes. The stranger lowered her softly onto the grass.

Through the fading haze of pain, she noticed his clothes. Pieces of armor donned over a colorful robe. A warrior? A mage? She saw a sword at his belt and thought the former. She saw the staff on his back and thought the latter. She saw the strange necklace he wore, the tightening of muscle beneath the skin of his arms, the pulsing of his heartbeat beside his throat. Too close for comfort, she wanted to protest. The rest of her shoved that feeling down with mysterious, remarkable efficiency.

"Hey! You there! Stop!" The calls of Professor Colbert reached her ears as well as the stranger's.

Louise tried to stand and found herself weak and lightheaded. The ritual had drained her more than she thought it would. She opted to stay in her familiar's arms.

"Miss Vallière, are you alright?"

"I am well, Professor. Just tired," she answered.

"Young lady," Professor Colbert began, "you have violated the sacred traditions of the Summoning Ritual. You have only three tries to summon a familiar, and yet you used four."

His admonishment was half-hearted at best. The professor's curious study of the stranger holding Louise explained it all; Jean Colbert was a scholar at heart. Dragons with human forms were a rare thing, and that was more than enough to rouse the professor's interest.

However, that did not excuse Louise's rule-breaking, and she knew that.

"I deeply apologize, Professor."

"This matter will be handled by the Headmaster."

* * *

"So I hear, Miss Vallière, that you broke the rules of the Summoning?"

Headmaster Osmond of the Tristain Academy of Magic was an ancient man. White hair cascaded from his face like water down a cliff. He stroked his beard with wrinkled hands, scrutinizing the pink-haired girl sitting across his desk. The girl fidgeted beneath the attention, her stare glued to the table. His question went unanswered, though by fairness his question was rhetorical.

"And what possessed you to do such a thing?" Osmond asked.

"I wanted a familiar," Louise answered quietly.

"You were given your chance, Miss Vallière. What you did today was inexcusable. Imagine the chaos if all the students were allowed more chances to partake in the ritual as you did." Osmond glanced at the man standing behind Louise's chair, taking note of the strange robe he wore. Red with golden triangles embroidered on the sleeves. There was a coat-of-arms on the armor, one the Headmaster did not recognize. The familiar studied the office with some curiosity, and otherwise remained silent. "I must say that your familiar is quite... unique. But I am afraid that does not pardon you from your deed."

"Yessir."

"As punishment, you will not be expelled." Louise brightened noticeably, her eyes filled with hope turning to the direction of her familiar. That was what made his next words more difficult to say. "Your familiar, on the other hand, will be taken from your care."

"What?" Louise whispered. Osmond noted how the girl's familiar eyed him suddenly.

"Do you have an opinion, Mister Familiar?"

The familiar raised a brow. Both Osmond and Louise felt a charge tingle their skin. The familiar spoke. "I suppose you can understand me now?"

A translation spell? Osmond hitched a brow. "Yes."

"Wonderful. My name is Zander."

"Greetings Zander. Welcome to the Tristain Academy of Magic."

"Thank you, sir. Is there something you wished to speak to me about?"

"Yes there is." Osmond gestured to Louise. "Your summoner here violated the accords of the Summoning Ritual used to bring you here. All participants are granted three tries. Miss Vallière used four. As such, you are officially illegally obtained and we must remove you from her care. What is your opinion on this?"

Zander blinked. "Three times? I see. I found a portal in my chambers before I came here. It remained for a minute or so before disappearing."

"That is likely connected to the ritual."

Zander nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "When it appeared the third time, I stepped inside."

Osmond looked faintly curious. "Why did you wait until the third time?"

"I have bad experiences with portals. They are, ah, quite the pain back at home. And it is common sense where I am from to be suspicious of them, especially when they appear unannounced."

"If I may ask, where are you from? Your clothing is certainly strange."

Zander smiled. "I think so too. This is the royal warmage regula of Red Haven. My, ah, _colleagues_ believed I needed to set an example for future magisters. My finery seemed to be on that list. Somehow they had gotten into my personal wardrobe and changed all of it."

Louise, who had been quiet, choked. _Royalty._

Osmond took it in stride. "Red Haven? I'm afraid I never heard of such a place."

"Portals _do_ tend to cross realms. Are you familiar with Othland?" Osmond shook his head. "Then it is possible I am not from your time. Or, perhaps, even your universe."

"I see. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"It's fine. I was getting bored."

The headmaster's smile grew. "Very well. If you claim to have been summoned on Miss Vallière's third attempt, then I have no reason to take you away from her." Louise brightened again, a look that warmed Osmond's heart. "However, I cannot excuse Miss Vallière's behavior entirely. The summoning ritual is a sacred rite that has existed since Brimir, and has been passed down through time since then. Miss Vallière's actions earlier today is blatantly disrespectful of those traditions. Miss Vallière, I will be writing to your family regarding this matter. You will also serve two months of detention."

Louise faltered, though not as much as she did earlier. This punishment she could bear.

"You will also be responsible for your familiar's well being."

"Yessir!"

Osmond nodded. "Very good. Off you go."

* * *

"Did I really summon you on my third try?" Louise asked as she led them down to the courtyard.

Zander shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is that when the portal came the third time, I stepped through. I found myself falling from the sky, so I shapeshifted into a dragon."

"You are a mage, then? Of course you are a mage. You are _royalty._" She stiffened, turned to him with flushed cheeks, and bowed apologetically. "I apologize deeply for the intrusion your Majesty. I did not know the ritual would take you so far from your home. I swear, I will—"

"It's fine, Miss Vallière," Zander answered. "I wasn't lying when I said I was getting bored."

"B-but your Majesty, surely your people—!"

"Will be fine. My colleagues will protect them, as will my army. This won't be the first time I disappeared. And please, call me Zander."

Louise stuttered incoherently, unsure how to continue addressing him. His insistence showed discomfort towards formality, but at the same time Louise couldn't bring herself to call royalty by name. It would embarrass her, and disgrace her whole family were word to spread. And then she realized her family would be learning everything about what had happened—her disregard of the summoning ritual, her familiar being a king from a distant land, and her punishment for breaking the rules!

"Are you alright, Miss Vallière?" A part of Louise was grateful that Zander seemed genuinely concerned for her. A friendly face in all the trouble she was at the center of, even if he was a part of the problem.

"I am fine. I just need to lie down."

Zander nodded. He carried her in his arms, ignoring her startled Eep!, and leapt out the window overseeing a section of the courtyard. Louise nearly screamed until she realized the both of them were gliding gently down to the grass of the lawn.

Zander sat in the shade beneath a tree. A long, white cushion materialized in front of him and set it on his lap. He pulled his summoner to him and rested her head against the cushion.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Louise hissed, her face flushed bright. "This is _inappropriate._"

"What are you talking about?" he answered with a carefree smile. "My friends and I do this all the time: relax in the shade in each other's company. It's a good way to unwind."

"B-b-but I'm, we're, we don't—and!"

Zander hushed her, pressing a finger against her forehead. She calmed instantly as a warm, buzzing feeling settled over her. The tension in her body disappeared, and the troubles of the day no longer mattered. It was as if she had fallen into an ocean of soft, feathered sheets. That the cushion she was laying on was very comfortable also helped.

A man's voice echoed in her ears. "Rest, Miss Vallière. We'll talk later."

The girl had fallen asleep.

Zander sighed and rubbed his eyes. This had turned into a situation. He could sense it. If he stayed any longer, he would get tied up in a big mess. It had happened once already.

With a gesture, a circle of light unfurled before him. A brief moment later and the image of a woman in her twenties, with sharp features and piercing eyes, formed inside the circle. The woman regarded Zander from beneath short bangs of auburn hair.

"Where are you?" the woman asked sternly.

"Another realm. I don't know the name," he answered. He yawned. "A portal popped up back home. Got into a contract. Consider this my vacation. You guys can hold the fort, right?"

"Of course." The look he was getting softened. "Be careful wherever you are."

"I love you too, Reah. I left a beacon in case you want to join."

"We'll consider it. Call soon."

The circle dimmed and vanished. Zander yawned again. From the position of the sun, he guessed the time to be nearly noon. How many days had it been since he last slept? Three? Four? Time blurred in the Tower in a way impossible to describe. He watched the Academy's students interact with their new familiars, some playing togethers, some talking, others simply enjoying the company. Zander lay back against the tree, traced unidentifiable patterns in the air with a finger, and shut his eyes.

Might as well catch some sleep.

* * *

It was lunchtime when Louise stirred. She had slept deeply under the warmth of the sun and the caress of the spring breeze. It was a welcome rest to a sleepless week thanks to her stress regarding the ritual. She found herself lying on the grass, her head resting on a rather comfortable cushion on a stranger's lap.

No, not stranger, she remembered. Zander. The man who was her familiar.

Louise rose carefully. Zander's eyes were shut. He was asleep. She took the moment to study her familiar then, his face, hair, skin, and hands. Her heart raced when she remembered—he was royalty. _Royalty._ She had to treat him well, not only because he was her familiar but also because any mistake could spell disaster. Not to mention his being a mage—doubtless one of remarkable strength considering his transformation as a dragon. She had never heard of such magic except in children's stories.

"And what do we have here? Zero and her lover?" a coy voice spoke from behind her.

Louise whirled, startled and resigned, to find her worst enemy watching her. Tall, buxom, seductive—Kirche was everything Louise was not. Louise hissed. "Zerbst."

"He doesn't look half bad. A bit older than what I expected from you."

"Watch your tongue!" Louise whispered harshly. "He is royalty!"

"Royalty sleeping outdoors? My, what a scandal." The teasing smile on Kirche's face fell when Louise's expression did not change. "Seriously? You summoned a prince?" Brown eyes locked on Zander. "Well, why don't you let me have a moment with him?"

"I will not let you touch my familiar!"

"Don't you realize it, Zero? This is my _chance!_"

Movement caught Louise's attention. The small figure standing behind Kirche, a quiet girl Louise remembered to be Tabitha, shut her book. "Dragon," Tabitha said softly, gesturing towards Zander.

Kirche looked thoughtful. "Yes, I remember. That great dragon that landed near the school."

A thin, vicious smile took hold of Louise. "Jealous, Zerbst?"

"Hardly. Flame here is quite enough for me." She gestured to a red lizard at her feet. The lizard was easily the size of a large dog. "Flame is a rare breed. A perfect match for me."

Zander stirred.

"Good afternoon there!" Kirche greeted with a smile.

"Afternoon," Tabitha chimed.

Zander blinked the sleep from his eyes. "Oh. Hi. Good afternoon." He glanced at Louise, then back at Kirche. "I suppose you are Miss Vallière's friends?"

Before Louise could protest, Kirche answered with a beatific smile. "Of course. The three of us are the _best_ of friends." With manners that surprised Louise, Kirche curtsied, though the effect was diminished thanks to Kirche's half-buttoned blouse. "My name is Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst. That quiet girl is Tabitha. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"I am Zander. Likewise."

"I hear from dear Louise that you are," Kirche leaned in to whisper, "a prince."

Zander chuckled as he rose, brushing off the grass bits from the seat of his robes. "A prince? Perhaps. I don't have an official title like that since I'm not affiliated with any one specific Haven. But my colleagues all insist that I have a formal position in each of their Havens." He frowned. "I guess I'm more of a king consort than a prince. Even if we're not married."

Louise tried to interrupt, but Kirche pressed on. "And your colleagues are?"

"The priestesses? They're more or less like queens."

"Queens?"

"Zander!" Louise finally said. "I suppose you are hungry now."

"A little."

"Wonderful. I will show you to our dining hall."

"And we will join you," Kirche quickly added. She had intended to tease Louise at first, but now her curiosity was piqued. "Tabitha, come."

Louise gritted her teeth before taking Zander by his arm and pulling him towards the dining hall.

"Your Majesty," Kirche continued, "if I may be so bold—"

"Zander is fine."

Kirche smiled coyly. "Then, Zander. If I may be so bold, how many queens do you have?"

"If you're asking what I think you're asking, then none. We're not in that kind of relationship."

"Then how does one find himself the king consort of several queens?"

"From where I'm from, few men can perform magic." Zander was quiet for a moment. "Well, nowadays I'm the only man who can. Men who can perform magic are called magisters, you see. There are few magisters have existed, but all of them, _every single one_, is known to have done great things."

"Such as?"

"Magister Adom was a hero who singlehandedly drove the demon armies back into the north. Magister Berth constructed the Great Barrier that spans the entirety of the north, keeping the demons from ever returning. Magister Calin built the Havens."

Her curiosity growing too much, Kirche couldn't help but to ask: "And what did _you_ do?"

Zander smiled bitterly, recalling old memories through glazed eyes. "I suppose I united the Havens after a civil war. And restored the honor of the Magistrum after the magisters were exiled about nine hundred years ago. And defeated the demon armies from the south." He sighed. "And founded immortality."

Louise walked right into the large, wooden doors of the campus's main tower. Kirche tripped on her own feet. Tabitha, who had been reading, dropped her book.

"Im-immortality?" Louise repeated.

"I've been busy," Zander said, offering a hand to Kirche. "And I'm not eager to meet the Gods."

Kirche took his hand and stood. "But immortality?"

"I'm seven hundred and fifty-six years old."

"Old," Tabitha muttered as she retrieved her book.

"There were circumstances," Zander explained. "After we dealt with all our problems, my colleagues and I realized that us dying could potentially risk all our efforts, if not undo them entirely. So I founded immortality. We're now Othland's immortal rulers." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's also why the Gods are displeased with me. Turning the priestesses into immortals ruined the Gods' traditional ceremonies. The priestesses are supposed to be sacrifices, you see."

"Sacrificing the queens?" Kirche repeated to herself. She was beginning to doubt her plans to get close to the proclaimed king.

"It's a religious thing. Sacrificing the priestess lets her become an avatar of her God after death. Pretty stupid if you ask me. I don't regret stopping it one bit." With a wave of his hand, the large doors to the main tower swung open, earning him a few surprised looks. Any doubt of his magical background then were dispersed. Zander marched inside, not noticing the surprise of his company. "It was an outdated practice; by the time I stopped it everyone was just going through the motions."

"How romantic," Kirche said with a sigh, "facing Gods to spend eternity with your beloved."

"I look after my friends." He smelled the air. "Oh. _That_ smells good."

When Zander wandered in the dining hall humming a strange tune, a small hand held Louise's shoulder. It was Tabitha. "Dangerous," the small girl said, expressing all her thoughts in a single word. Another word summarized their thoughts: "Careful."

Kirche smiled bitterly. "She is right. If his story is true, then he is to be treated carefully."

"I do not need you to tell me how to treat my familiar," Louise muttered, though her own thoughts were similar to theirs. _This is my problem._

Kirche nodded understandingly. "Good luck, Louise."

* * *

_a/n: Had this sitting in my writing folder for a long time. This story is more a playground for me than anything._


	2. Chapter 2

Unsurprisingly, following the defeat of the Demon armies, the land itself seemed drawn into chaos.

When the Magistrum fell long ago, the ones that conspired to bring it down formed several republics that quickly became monarchies working in the husk of their predecessor.

The Havens began a war of their own, conspiring against each other in a moment of vulnerability. Each sought power—and in power, security. The young man who surfaced to fight a war found himself at the center of another. And while in the first he knew who the enemy was, in this war he found no one he could trust.

That is, until he met a young woman named Miasca.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

At the end of the day, Louise returned to her room exhausted but positively jubilant.

In her mind the draft of a letter proclaiming her overwhelming success in the Springtime Summoning Ritual was already in the works. She would write one to Cattleya, recounting the great dragon that descended from the sky with as much flourish as she could muster—anything to make her sister smile—and then write another to her mother in the formal way she had been taught. Louise learned at a young age that Karin Désirée de la Vallière was not one who enjoyed fantastical tales.

Perhaps an offhand mention her familiar being the king of a distant land could raise her mother's brow. Indeed, it would! It sounded outlandish, of course, and her mother would certainly doubt her sanity—but it was all true! Despite the severity of the matter, there was a silver lining to this.

That lining was that her familiar was certainly formidable.

"You seem pleased, Miss Vallière," Zander remarked as he followed in her footsteps.

With a smile she could barely restrain, Louise answered, "It has been a tiring day, Your Ma- _Zander._ But it had gone better than I had anticipated."

"I understand. You are no longer a pariah amongst your peers." He noticed how Louise stumbled at his observation. Her sorrow hid well beneath a mask, but, even as she tucked it away from his sight, Zander was more than old enough to read between the lines. "They were watching you all day. Their intentions were mixed, some curious, others angry. Of course, there is nothing for you to be ashamed of. There were a few admirers in the crowd. And though I risk the sin of arrogance when I say this, you _did_ manage to contact me. Ultimately, that deed alone proves every one of your fellow classmates to have been wrong."

Inexperienced in dealing with praise, Louise concealed her flush by looking away. "Th-thank you."

"You did good work. I will also help as necessary."

Louise perked up at his words. "Help? As in... you'll teach me magic?"

They reached Louise's room. The doors opened, revealing a comfortable room fit for the daughter of a noble family living away from the family estate. A white, frilled canopy hung over a four poster bed that sat in the center of a room spacious enough for three more to fit in. A lantern on the lacquered wooden table lit the room with a soft glow.

As Zander eyed the line of cabinets and dresser on the side of the room, he answered, "I'll teach you what I can. I know plenty of magical theory that you should be able to apply even in your world. I have practical experience with magical engineering, warfare, and alchemy. I've—well, I _have memory of_ teaching apprentices, and I should be able to accommodate for any unexpected trouble." He flicked his wrist and the curtains moved to block the moon from the room. The air of the room shifted as a spell laid itself over the walls, the door, the ceiling, and the floor. "Before I forget, I have information you need to know."

"Know? Know what?"

"The terms of our contract, Miss Vallière." He raised his hand, revealing the runes carved on the back. "This represents my side of the deal. Your side is on your hand."

Louise blinked, surprised. His words reminded her of something. She looked at the back of her left hand, where it had hurt before during the summoning ritual. There was a single line in her skin running horizontally just beneath her knuckles. Only a line, no runes. She gaped, speechless.

"The contract system is fluid across worlds," Zander explained, "but it always has a similar structure. Two parties exchange possessions. Or services. I'm not sure what these markings on my hand means, but they relate to my own purpose for being here. I presume it is to serve as your familiar." He frowned. "However, the nature of our contract is odd. Specifically, only half of it exists. You don't have anything I want, so your half of the contract is empty."

Louise found her words. "That's not how the familiar ritual should work."

"I don't know enough about your ritual to know its mechanics. I _do_ know how a contract system works, and the signs of it being here are evident."

The young mage bit her lip, unsure of how to respond.

"The fact of the matter is this: until we can determine an appropriate exchange for this contract—for me to be your familiar, that is—it will remain a false one. Void of meaning. Which means that I cannot truly become your familiar until you have something to exchange."

"W-what?" Louise yelped. "I don't—you're a _king_! What could I possibly have that you could want?"

"I'm sorry. I wouldn't know. I... was no king when I was young. I learned to work for what I want with my own two hands. I don't have many desires—and those I do have I earn by my own efforts." His stare became distant as he recalled times lost past. "Well, at least for that which I _know_ I want. If you deeply wish for me to become your familiar, I suggest you offer something... _unexpected_. In the meantime, I am perfectly willing to assist you in your needs, provided they are reasonable."

"That can't be. I—" She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her growing panic was overturning her reason. She couldn't let that happen. "I can feel a bond. The master-familiar bond."

"It's the contractual link, I assure you. And it will remain until we either resolve or dissolve the contract."

"But..."

"You don't need to worry, Miss Vallière. I understand the significance this issue has upon you. I'm not so selfish that I would abandon you now."

"I... can you promise me that?"

"Yes. I Swear upon the Magistrum, the memories of my predecessors, and the souls of the people We cared for that I, Zander, who takes upon the mantle of Magister, will not abandon Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière without cause. May this Oath be seen by those above, and be blessed by thee."

A whisper of magic unfamiliar to Louise swept by her. Still, she understood his words well enough. Her fraying nerves calmed.

"Thank you very much. I swear on the name Vallière that I won't... ever betray your trust."

Surprise flickered across Zander's features briefly. "You didn't have to do that, you know. The only person at risk of losing anything is yourself."

She almost puffed out her chest and declared how nobles were bound by honor to repay debts until she realized how meaningless such a statement was in the face of a king. Instead, she hung her head meekly. "I... want to work harder. I want... _need_ to become a better mage."

Zander smiled a little when he understood her unspoken words. "You'll be fine."

The girl squirmed beneath the gaze that seemed to peer into her soul. Looking away, she realized with horror what she had forgotten to do that afternoon. "M-my apologies, I had forgotten to arrange for you a room for you," Louise said anxiously. "I will go find one of the servants. There should be a guest room available for you to rest. There always is in case a wealthy noble would decide to visit."

Zander shook his head. "It's fine. I need to return home for tonight."

Eyes wide, Louise froze like a startled deer.

"While it's unlikely that I'll live here," he continued, "I will certainly spend much of my time with you. That means I need to make sure everything at home is in order."

"How are you going to...?"

Zander chuckled softly. "I can make a portal. I'll be back before dawn, alright?"

Fascinated, Louise watched Zander as he gestured with his hand. Space warped along his fingers. Her stomach twisted into knots when she saw the non-euclidean shapes within the warped space where light failed to penetrate. Zander stepped through the warp, disappearing completely into murky shadows that seemed to grow within itself like monsters trapped beyond a mirror. Tentatively, Louise reached out to where Zander stepped through and found nothing to grasp.

Her room was empty save herself.

With an exhausted sigh, she leapt into her bed, too depleted to change her clothes. She fell asleep hoping that this dream would continue come morning.

* * *

Zander stepped into his Tower silently. He was in the scarcely-adorned corridor that circled the third floor of his tower, right outside his office. He pulled his sword from his belt and dropped it on the floor, where it sank into his shadow. When he neared the door that was marked only by a single rune, it opened of its own violation, sliding to the right to let him through. It became virtually indistinguishable from the other walls when it shut behind him.

When he stepped into the foyer, he could tell he had a visitor.

"Back so soon?" a voice called from the lounge.

"Just getting things prepared. Don't want the Barrier to collapse when I'm gone or anything. I'll be going back in a few hours." Even as he spoke, the various cabinets and drawers in his office shut and locked themselves. Artificial leylines running over the stone walls like cracks of sunlight grew dim as he passed them. Papers flew back into chests that sank into pocket dimensions, and the office sealed itself away behind walls of broken space. The right archway from the foyer vanished behind an illusion. Instead of climbing the spiraling staircase to his left, he visited the lounge through the central archway.

In the brightly-lit lounge was a dark-skinned woman sprawled over the couch with a pen in her mouth and a sheaf of papers on her belly.

The heavy tattoos all over her body depicted the forms of various animals—a lion, a peacock, a snake. The picture of a snake eating its tail wrapped around her right upper arm. Though she lay with her back in the pillows, he knew there was a larger tattoo of a six-armed figure sketched from shoulder-to-shoulder. Its head disappeared beneath her short afro.

That she wore only a red tank top and undergarments did nothing to catch his attention.

"Did you eat yet?" she asked while reading.

"Yeah. How many today?"

"Fifty."

Zander huffed. "What a pain. I'm guessing Reah was there?"

"And Trine."

"Hmm. Guess I should check up on them, too." He looked at the floor, where clothes were strewn haphazardly. He knew who the red sash and top belonged to, but the white dress shirt and pencil skirt? He furrowed his brows. "Lind, who else is here?"

"Someone I know."

"Again? Please tell me you stayed in the guest room this time."

"No."

Zander sighed. "Did you at least clean up?"

"Was about to."

He threw a sock at her before flickering away to the upper level of his office, where another woman snoozed comfortably in a bed. _His_ bed. He eyed another set of undergarments laying on his nightstand. His room smelled heavily of sex. "Well, at least she's cute," he muttered, grabbing the staff lying on the floor. He made a face when he found his fingers wet. The staff flickered once, drying instantly. His coat flew across the room from the hook it hung on. When he teleported back to the lounge to give Lind a piece of his mind, he found she had already dozed off. Sighing, he retrieved a blanket and tossed it over her. "Damn woman. Just because my place is great doesn't mean you can come here all the time."

Darkening the glowstones overhead with a thought, he shook his head and flickered away again.

This time he was sitting on a leather couch in well-lit office with white walls and a marble floor. The woman at the desk, who wore a brown uniform with golden embroidery, glanced up from her desk and offered a slight smile. "Back already?"

"Had to grab some stuff. It's gonna to be a long one." He showed her the back of his hand.

The woman frowned. "Oh. What do you have to do?"

"Be a familiar, I think."

She blinked slowly. Her lips curled up a little. "I recall offering something similar..."

"That was a _long_ time ago."

Softly, she continued as her pen scribbled once more, "The offer still stands."

"Not interested. The only reason I'm playing along with this is..." He shook his head. "Well, _reasons_. No offense. You know I care about you all."

"I understand. Still, it is a little sad."

He simply shrugged. "I won't be anyone's dog, Reah. If that girl who summoned me tried—"

The pen stopped. "Girl?"

Zander's teeth audibly clacked shut. Hesitantly, he continued. "Yeah. A girl. She's... fourteen_ish_. Pink hair, tiny, nervous with self-esteem issues." Raising a hand, he added, "And before you say anything, _no_, I'm not interested in her." The pen resumed writing slowly. "We barely know each other, and she's not like how Miasca was back then. In fact, she's some kind of elite."

"Well, I hope you have fun."

"You sound angry. Reah, why are you angry?"

"I'm not."

"That poor form disagrees."

"It deserves it. Stupid forms, stupid paperwork. I—"

"Need a vacation. It's about time, anyway. You should join me soon. It'll be fun."

Shutting her eyes, Reah exhaled. "It would. Maybe. I would like some time off. It's been... twelve years? An extended break would be a nice change of pace."

Appearing behind her, Zander rested on a knee and wrapped his arms about Reah's shoulders. She let herself relax in the embrace. "Take a few days to get things in order, then contact me. I'll arrange a pick up. The others, they can hold the fort. I'll check on the Barrier, make sure it's up to snuff. We can spend a few years out there, doing whatever."

"I... I would like that."

"Alright." He rose. Her hands lingered on his forearms. "I'll go to the Barrier and give Trine a hand."

"I'll see you soon."

He smiled. "Yeah. Soon."

He flickered again, and then he was atop the ramparts of a black, metallic wall that rose high into a clouded sky. Ice and snow colored the jagged peaks far in the horizon. The air stung with sharp frost against his skin. He knew Trine was here.

In the distance, towards the center of the circle that the Great Barrier formed, Zander saw space twisted into a silvery-dark sphere that hung in the air. It was the Southern Gate, the place where he carved his legacy as a magister long ago. It was an abomination of magic that took space and time across two planes of reality and brought them together through means unknown. Though neither he nor his predecessors knew how to seal the Gates, Zander had contained all that spilled out from with unquestionable efficacy. It was his timeless, ceaseless duty. The Great Barrier was the symbol of his stalwart defense—and at the same time, a testament of the forgotten might of the Magistrum. In the immediate surrounds was dead land, barren of all but scorched earth.

The air to his left quickly grew colder and drier. "Trine. Having fun?"

A blonde woman with her hair in a horizontal braid settled near his elbow. A white cloak hung over her shoulders. "A little. Not enough." Her blue eyes focused towards the Gate, where the air around it began to waver. Even so, her stoic mask remained unaffected. "Why are you here?"

"Maintenance."

A sheet of frost grew over a part of the rampart before cracking. "Working fine."

"Here they come again." He watched as figures in white, machined suits moved all across the Barrier. A cloud of vapor escaped his mouth when he said, "Tell your girls to stand down. I'm on the clock."

Trine's head tilted in confusion. "Until what?"

"I'm going on break soon." After showing the back of his hand to her, he gestured to the Gate. "Since I might be gone long, I need to get this done ASAP."

"Understood. Stand down."

Trine's voice, though low, carried through the air all across the Barrier. The guards in their powered armor readied their weapons but held their fire. The mages in the towers had already sensed Zander's presence the moment he appeared. He could feel their stares from afar. He was an anomaly here, he knew. Much of the history behind him was common knowledge, even if much of it was contorted.

As Zander climbed onto the edge, black armor spilled out from the shadows over his body and encapsulated his form until his features were completely concealed inside a black shell.

_Show time._

Leaping forward, his form flickered, crossing the distance from the top of the Barrier to the ground in an instant. From the shadows on the ground, the tiny ones cast by pebbles to his very own, armored beings sprouted. All were encased in black armor like his, though of different designs.

His was of a closed helmet with a slight horn jutting from the forehead. His armor retained a slight bulk alongside a streamlined shape. In his hand was his gnarled staff pouring arcane energy from the crest at the head and the runes lining the rod. A dozen other staves of various shapes danced in the air behind him, each producing their own matrix of energy. The leylines running across the surface of his armor circulated magical power all over his body in a protective field that far exceeded anything that existed in Othland.

The other armored forms varied. Some had bulky shapes far larger than Zander's, with great shields, heavy blades, and reaching weapons. Several towered over the rest of the growing army.

Some wore lighter plates and wielded long rifles and short blades. They moved like the wind.

Few others wielded staves of their own, each pulsating with power. These took to the air, hanging back while brandishing their staves. Lightning and arcane power crackled in a chaotic symphony as their numbers filled the sky.

When the shimmering around the Gate gave way, creatures of uncommon girth, height, and shape poured outwards in a flood of bodies resembling a leak in a dam. Teeth, metal, and claws flashed in dull light. They were but a drop in an immeasurable ocean when compared to the numbers that once savaged Othland, the Demon armies of yore. Still, hundreds of thousands of bodies poured out, rushing at the Barrier and at the approaching enemy.

These Demons met the Legion and parted like a river of mud.

The Barrier thundered. Long-range cannons numbering in the tens of thousands unleashed their payloads from all directions at the enemy emerging from the Gate.

The Legion pushed ahead unaffected by the cannon fire, the teeth, and the blades.

Cutting, shooting, bashing, and obliterating, the Legion was a killing machine made of sword, spell, and gun.

The Legion was the weapon of the Magistrum that brought its masters victory since its very birth. It slammed into the line of Demons again and again like a juggernaut, never giving ground, grinding down the Demon's numbers with each clash. The monsters threw themselves on the Legion's blades, against its shield walls, in the path of its bullets and spells. Teeth and metal scraped against armor as black as obsidian in vain, for the Legion was gilded in a steel stronger than steel. Though their numbers would outright overwhelm any usual front, the Demons found that it would be their own flesh that would feed the earth this day. The carnage unfolded before the witnesses on the Barrier in violet blood.

Zander himself took to the sky, raining spells from the heavens—arcane energy shaped into waves, blasts, and storms. He hurled them downwards from his staves, peppering the Demons in massive saturations of magical power. The simplicity of his role was more than enough.

When the sun began to set, the wave receded. All was quiet in the Southern Gate.

* * *

"It's a warm place, from what I saw," he said later, when Trine found him at the cannons.

A black dais protruded from the ground, covered in white light that shifted into illegible symbols. Zander manipulated these symbols while keeping an eye on the armaments. The barrels that stood several times his height still captured Trine's bewilderment to this day as their smaller parts adjusted in accordance to Zander's control.

"Reah too?" Trine asked.

"Maybe? Not immediately, at least. She needs the time off. I would expect it." The cannons began humming in sequence. The dais lowered into the floor. "And _that's_ the last of the calibrations."

"Sleep."

"Right," he agreed. "If I'm lucky I can have about five hours."

"Alone?"

"Dunno. Lind commandeered my place. Again. She used my staff." He aimed a suspicious look in Trine's direction. "You wouldn't happen to know about that, would you?"

Trine stared back stoically.

With a guffaw, Zander turned away. "You're all sickos."

"Not my fault. Helen's."

"Disgusting," he replied with a laugh. "You're all weird. Where do you want me to drop you off?"

"Barracks."

"Right-o." Taking Trine's hand in his own, Zander teleported the both of them outside. The mages and soldiers gathered at the formation of buildings beyond the Barrier flinched at Zander's appearance.

Trine squeezed his hand and kissed him on the cheek before heading towards the dormitory.

"G'night to you too." Another teleportation, this time to one of the higher floors of his Tower. Appearing on the ninth floor bedroom, where a dark red and gold carpet covered the floor, he began shedding his coat and armor. He froze when he noticed a red-haired with woman bronzed skin lying beneath his heavy sheets, watching him with an amused smile. His breastplate slipped from his hand and landed on the carpet.

"Oh, do go on. I'm enjoying it," she said.

"Helen. What... what are you doing here?" His eyes darted to his collection of staves at the wall. He hoped they were intact.

"Warming your bed, _dearest._ What else?" Her faux smile hid its thorns. Every rose had them, and she was the queen of all roses. "The moment I heard you were departing for a long trip, I couldn't help but to consider how long it might be until we would reunite."

"I was hoping to get some shut eye."

"Oh, you will when I'm done with you." He was thankful this floor had no plants, or else he'd be immensely uncomfortable.

"I have less than five hours until I have to go back."

"Five _minutes_ is all we'll need."

"I'm a _bit_ too tired for the small talk, Helen. Why are you really here?"

"To hear the story, of course." To his dismay, Zander spotted the vines crawling down from the ceiling to circle his bed. But it wasn't a surprise; Helen always brought plants of her own. "I wondered what place could be so _enchanting_ that you would even invite Reah with you. I'm honestly a little jealous considering how you've taken not only the others with you on vacation before, but Reah _twice_?"

"Helen, you know why I don't ask you." _You're the only one still playing the game._

"I do. Which is why, instead of intruding upon your decided get-together, I seek some time in your bed. Even if it is for a moment."

Despite her words, he was tempted to teleport elsewhere until she laughed. "What? Afraid of my thorns?"

Though he and Helen shared perhaps the worst relationship amongst their little circle, Zander reminded himself that she had proven worthy of his trust that day so long ago. Helen's words were always full of bramble, but even now he knew she would not purposefully harm any of them. No, his wariness stemmed from what he realized now—that, hypocritically, he himself was still playing the game in a sense. It was a game that should have ended when he exchanged his heart for the one he made, the game of politics. Letting out a breath, Zander shrugged out of his remaining armor and then his robe.

"At least someone is looking forward to this," she said mirthfully.

"Oh, shut up and move over."

* * *

_a/n: As per the tradition of all students taking finals, I decided instead to finish a chapter of this story instead. Hope you all enjoy it._


	3. Chapter 3

Othland is not Man's land.

Humanity is but a drop in an ocean of vicious savagery. To the west is the Goblin horde. The east hides the horrors of the Wastes. The south the Hunt. The north the Icemen. And everywhere else, from the sky to the earth beneath our feet, we are besieged by creatures that wish us dead or in their stomachs. Or both.

To protect ourselves, to save ourselves, we must overcome these enemies of man. We must ascend past the limitations of our bodies, our beings.

Creation is the key.

― Magister Auric

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Miss Vallière."

Louise shifted in her bed as a man's voice called her name.

"Miss Vallière. It is morning. You must wake."

She tossed again. Then a sharp prod in her side startled her, and she opened her eyes. Sunlight made her wince. Yawning, she turned in her bed, her bleary gaze finding Zander standing beside her bedroom door, smiling politely.

"Fuah?"

"Good morning, Miss Vallière. If I understand correctly, you must attend classes."

She looked out her window, then back at Zander. He was in a different wardrobe: a silver uniform with blue embroidery, and a matching cloak. "Muah?"

Zander's smile widened.

Her brain awoke a second later. Registering her surroundings, Louise blinked, looked down at the disheveled state of her dress; her school uniform from last night was wrinkled and untidy. Some time during the night, her blouse had rolled up, exposing her belly, and her skirt was in a pile on the floor. She felt her face turn beet red. As if sensing her distress, Zander nodded. "I'll wait outside. Please get ready. Your schoolmates are already having breakfast."

He opened the door slightly and slipped outside.

The moment the door shut, Louise buried herself beneath her sheets. Never before had she embarrassed herself so in front of anyone outside her family.

That Zander was a _king_ mortified her only more.

Louise found the strength to change herself. After putting on a fresh uniform, she emerged from her room unable to look at Zander. His amusement only made her want to crawl back into her bed and hide until the world would disappear.

Somehow, she made herself walk to breakfast.

"If you don't mind, Miss Vallière," her familiar said, "I would like to attend one of your courses as well. To see how your curriculum is."

She bit her lip. "Of course."

"I remember I promised to help you with your magic as well. I am unsure how your schedule is arranged, or what you know so far. If you are still interested―"

"I am," she blurted out.

"Very well. I will drill you the very basics of what I know. I will try to teach you as much practical knowledge as I can first."

An excited smile touched her face. A powerful mage was going to teach her magic. The thought was enough to make her dream. Then when they reached the small dining hall downstairs, Louise heard the whispers floating about her. Her smile fell quickly as the words "Louise the Zero" reached her ears. Horror dawned in her; after all, she was the Zero, incapable of properly performing magic. Imagining a cruel sneer on Zander's face at her inability to cast even the simplest spell made her heart twist in pain.

"Miss Vallière."

Louise flinched at the sudden coldness in his tone. She looked up at him meekly as he towered beside her. His eyes were elsewhere, studying faces. Distant.

"Miss Vallière, are you being bullied?" he asked softly.

"N-no."

"Your friends are... I see. My apologies. I should have remembered how petty children could be. Rest assured, you have my support no matter what."

Shadows moved in the corner of her eyes. Her jaw almost dropped as a pair of armored figures pulled themselves from the floor. Their armor was as black as volcanic glass. They stood tall and silent beside him, holding dangerous-looking polearms to themselves.

The effect was immediate: the dining room fell silent.

Except for one.

A boy spoke, and she heard his whisper: "Who's that guy with the Zero?"

Whether or not the boy intended to be heard mattered little. All eyes turned to him. Zander studied the boy coolly. "You. The fat one. What is the name you called Miss Vallière?"

The boy's eyes darted about frantically as the students parted, opening a path for Zander to approach him. No one wished to stop a man with guards he summoned wordlessly from the very earth itself. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck when the armored figures stopped behind Zander, their weapons menacing. "The Zero, sir."

"Why do you call her that?"

"B-because she cannot perform magic."

"She summoned me. If I understand correctly, that in itself is a magical feat."

"They say you're just a noble she's paid off. That you're... fake."

"Little boy," Zander growled. His voice sent shivers down everyone's backs. "Do you insult me? I can show you how _very real_ I am when I send your family a complaint about your lack of respect to your elders." Then, suddenly, there was a sword in his hand, as black as the armor of his escorts. There was a collective drawing of breaths as the tip of the blade touched the boy's neck. "Or maybe I'll send them your head."

Tears wet the boy's face. "N-no, sir. I beg of you, spare me!"

"I expected more from a noble's son. Tell me: who is your father?"

"Adrian LaRoche," he said through panicked sobs. His body shook with fear. "A-Adrian LaRoche, a c-captain of Her Majesty's forces."

"The son of a military officer? Your father must be embarrassed of you." Louise could see the boy wince at the verbal jab. "Are you not following your father's footsteps? Where is your discipline? Your chivalry? What are you going to be, boy?" The boy looked lost. Somehow, the sneer on Zander's face grew crueler. "Nothing? Never thought of becoming someone other than daddy's heir? Never thought of earning something with your own two hands? Hah!"

He pulled his sword away. "It seems that _you_ are the true Zero, you lamprey."

Then he walked back to Louise's side. Her expression was frozen in a mix of horror and supreme smugness. Controlling herself, Louise said nothing. She stood straighter, walked through the students that quickly gave her space, and retrieved two platters of food from one of the servants in the dining room.

She seated herself at a hastily-vacated table. Zander joined her on the opposite side.

"Thank you," Louise muttered.

There was not a trace of the scorn from before in Zander's face. "No need. I am here for you."

"That was the kindest thing anyone here has done for me. Though I do believe you were a bit excessive. Were you not a king, you might have gotten in trouble."

"I may be in trouble, anyway. But I wouldn't have hurt him. It was a show of strength rather than a demonstration of it. If that slob has a stomach, he'll learn a lesson," Zander mused. A brief turn of his eyes discouraged the stares they were getting from their neighbors. "More, if he has half a brain. Perhaps make something of himself. How can a father let his son rot like that?"

She didn't tell him how her heart nearly jumped out of her mouth when he drew his sword. She was remembered he was a king... of a different world. A different land.

With different ways.

Inwardly, she was repulsed by her familiar's casual promise of violence. No matter how much she wanted to punch the LaRoche heir for tormenting her, she couldn't stomach the image of Zander beheading the boy. Her ideas of vengeance did not sit well with inflicting death. That Zander cared little for that was nearly barbaric. And yet he was a king. Magically gifted. Somewhat charismatic. Friendly to her. Willing to help her with her own problems. How could such radical aspects exist in the same person?

Louise hesitated. "About my magic..."

"I'll handle it. If you want to be a better mage, then I will guide you."

Water came to her eyes. She fought to keep it there. Yes―how could he be so strange?

* * *

"Your soldiers," Louise began as she ate. The smell of sweetened cakes in the morning sharpened her appetite. "They are..."

"Different?" One of the armored figures stepped forward, startling her. It thumped a hand against its chest in a strange salute, bowed a little, and stepped back. "They're a part of me. Together, they are the Legion. They were once what protected the Magistrum from the monsters in Othland. Nowadays they're for my personal use."

"Are they not... not normal people?"

"They are golems constructed from a metal forged from shadow, aether, and magic. They are linked to me using a portion of my soul."

Louise's eyes widened. "That sounds..."

"Complex?"

"And dangerous."

"I've been using the Legion for a long time, and have perfected their design as much as I could over the years." He shrugged. "But yes. Dangerous."

"Why?"

Zander shrugged. "It's my job to do the things that others cannot. Or will not. That often includes killing unpleasant creatures. Things that go bump in the night." Louise looked curious. Zander continued. "For example, the Goblin Horde. Goblins are these stout, hardy creatures with rough hides covered in welts. They're small but clever. And fierce. They work together, and in numbers can take down even the greatest of beasts.

"In Othland, the Goblins consolidated, with millions of them working together to create a single military nation. They're... fearsome."

She tried to imagine such a thing. "They do sound scary."

"It gets worse. They're a male-only species. They raid other territories to capture females of different races to reproduce with." Louise paled. Her fork clattered into her plate. "It's not something you'd want to see. That's why there are so many of them. One goblin can sire hundreds of thousands if left alone with enough women."

Louise felt sick to her stomach. The hardened glint in Zander's eyes told her he did not much like these goblins. She tried not to think of what such creatures did to women.

"So your Legion fights them?" she asked.

"Only when they act up. They're fairly diplomatic towards other governments, even if they are a bit crude and violent. Everyone knows they capture their women, but don't want to confront them and risk falling into outright war. Not even the Dragons.

"But yes. I've fought them. I don't like them very much, and they don't like me."

"And there are other monsters like that?"

"Yes. The Goblin Horde is really an umbrella name for goblins and their kin. Ogres, trolls, orcs, and everything in between. Then there's the Draconic League, the Communion of Fey, the Icemen Tribes, all the creatures in the Wastes, the Deeps―"

"That's horrible. How do your people survive?"

"The Magistrum. We conquered the land, and slew the enemies of humanity. We built sanctuaries for humans, protected them. Havens, we called them. When the Magistrum fell, those Havens became the last true shelters for the people."

"The Magistrum. You mean, the kingdom that fought those monsters fell? Was there some disastrous beast that it could not defeat?"

"Oh, yes. The people it cared for." Zander lowered his head, recalling a time from before. "The Magisters were warrior mages. Scholars. Teachers. Crafters. Men. For a long time, they were leaders because of their capabilities. But then women wanted to learn. At first the Magisters refused because there was no point in teaching women how to fight. The whole point of fighting in the first place was to keep our women away from the Goblin Horde, which was our primary enemy at the time.

"Eventually, the Magisters took on a group of female students. Made them powerful mages. And those women taught other women." He frowned. "The first incursion by the Demon army happened then. The women contributed to the fight, of course. They had a different brand of magic. You see, the magical well Magisters draw strength from is for Magisters only―men only. And not all men were Magisters. Women, they had to use a different source of power. They learned to collect magic in their wombs.

"What they lacked in consistency, they made up for with numbers. They used ritual magic to suppress the Demons, and the Magisters handled the rest."

"That's amazing," Louise muttered, eyes shining.

"By the end of the war, things were different. Men fought in the frontlines during the war, and women in the back. More men died than women. For the first time since the Magistrum existed, there were more women than men. Vastly more. And the women grew courageous. They blamed the incursion on the Magisters, using the losses occurred during war to draw support. And women are masters of emotional arguments. They used rage, fear, sorrow, and distrust to gather more under their ideals. Manipulated fellow humans with webs of words and morals.

"The only women that were true supporters of the Magistrum―the Magisters' first female students―died during the war. The rest of the women were more radical.

"They led a force of mages and sympathizers to White Haven, the heart of the Magistrum, and demanded the Magisters step down for incompetence. The Magisters did, because they would never turn their blades against their very own students.

"The leaders of the rebellion became the first Priestesses. While consolidating their control over what was the Magistrum, the Magisters were imprisoned. They died.

"Since them, the Priestesses, or Queens nowadays, rule the Havens."

"And you? How are you their king, then?"

Zander smiled bitterly. "I am a very reluctant king-regent to many priestesses. They had to learn the hard way why things were the way they were."

Louise was quiet. She sensed an underlying darkness to his words. Anger. Spite. Vehemence. "Do you hate them? The priestesses."

Zander closed his eyes. "Yes. And sometimes I hate the casual viciousness I've learn to see in all women I meet. But I've also learned that I must put aside the hate and get the job done. For a greater good." A thin smile curled his lips. "And at the same time, I learned how to be a little vicious as well. I admit, it can be fun to be cruel."

* * *

The classroom was silent when Louise entered with Zander.

Those that would have mocked her kept quiet, their eyes fixed fearfully on the man in silver. Louise understood their fear. She learned a little of how terrifying Zander could be.

But Kirche was different. The dark-skinned girl flew across the classroom when Zander came in. She eyed the soldiers behind him, but ultimately ignored them in favor of leaning against Zander's side. Louise was very aware of how Kirche was behaving; it was the same way she always behaved whenever she was near a boy that caught her eye. Kirche pressed herself against Zander, and made sure to express her interest to him.

Physically.

"Zander, darling. There you are." Kirche sighed breathily. "I saw your display this morning. How strong! How commanding! You stole my heart, you."

"Good morning, Miss Zerbst. I'd appreciate my arm back."

Kirche blinked when Zander extracted his hand from between her valleys. She didn't allow that to deter her. In fact, it only seemed to encourage her. She curled her hair with her fingers, tilting her body in a way that shook her assets. "Of course. My mistake. They say my family is the passionate kind. Burning hot, like the fires of the sun. Forgive me for my moments of... uncontrollable need. I will do my best to restrain myself around you. Until you say otherwise."

"Forgiven," Zander answered dryly. He turned to Louise. "Miss Vallière, I believe class is about to start. Perhaps we should find a seat?"

Kirche spoke up. "There's an empty seat beside mine."

Louise pointed to the opposite side of the classroom, away from where Kirche sat. "Let's sit over there."

"Of course."

Inwardly crowing at Kirche's distraught expression, Louise made her way towards the left side of the room. She seated herself neatly. Zander pulled out a chair and sat. Louise noticed Kirche standing where she was, deep in thought. Then Kirche dashed to where she sat, within a group of boys she often flirted with, and retrieved her things.

Then she made her way to where Louise was and took a seat beside her.

"This side of the classroom is so much brighter," Kirche said with a smile. "I would see more from here." She sat in her chair, and leaned back so as to expose her cleavage through the unbuttoned portion of her blouse. "What do you think, Zander? Can you see better?"

"What are you doing, Zerbst?" Louise hissed. "Go away. Zander isn't interested."

"I am perfectly willing to be diplomatic about this, Louise." Kirche's expression showed not a bit of her usual mirth. "I'm fine with sharing. Even two hours a day is fine."

"No! You have a hundred other boys. Go to _them_."

"_They_ aren't Zander. Just _boys_."

Louise curled her lips in a scowl. For some reason, Kirche's presence almost felt like a threat to her. "Zander wants to be alone. He doesn't like girls like you."

"But he likes _women_ like me, right? Men do."

"He has queens, Zerbst. _Queens_. Women much worthier than you."

"That's okay. I'm fine with being a mistress." Kirche looked longingly at Zander. Louise looked to Zander as well, but for help.

He caught Louise's eyes and shook his head. "She seems the type that likes strong personalities," he explained. "Discouraging her only makes her try harder. Encouraging her does about the same. All I can do is ignore her, and hope some other man catches her attention. Women like her are like birds of carrion that fly to the freshest corpse."

"Oh, he's the strong, jaded-type!" Kirche squealed. She nudged Louise. "Cold on the outside, but burning hot on the inside. Men like him are so hard to find here!"

"And unfortunately, women like her are _everywhere_."

"But look at me, dear." Kirche gestured to the curves of her body. "How many of them are as blessed as I? Surely this warrants some degree of worthiness for a man such as yourself?"

"Looks are half of it."

"Just a half?"

"In very generous terms, yes."

"What about the other half? Money? Fame? Power?"

"It depends. I prefer trust."

Louise frowned at Zander's admission. _Trust?_

Kirche nodded in understanding. "Ah. I see, I see. As I suspected, you'll only let the women you see as worthy into your heart."

"I wouldn't call them worthy," Zander chuckled. "I'm simply used to them."

Forcing herself into Zander's lap, Kirche threw her arms around his shoulders and fluttered her eyes. A collective gasp came from the boys that have been watching Kirche's attempt at seducing the older man. "And what would it take," the Germanian girl whispered huskily, "for me to become like that for you?"

Zander smiled grimly and answered just as lowly, "Die for me."

Kirche's expression fell. She stood quickly, as if she had been burned. With uncharacteristic focus, she studied the amused look Zander sported before forcing her usual cheer back onto her face. "Well, that's a little too much for me," she answered. "Although that does make me wonder how much you've done with your dear queens. You must run them ragged, you evil man."

Zander snorted in an ignoble manner. "Quite the opposite, I assure you."

"I will have to take your word for it."

Louise couldn't quite hide the shock on her face when Kirche waved goodbye, returning to her group of boys on the far side of the room.

She didn't miss the look Kirche sent her, either.

"What did you say to her?" Louise asked.

"I told her the truth. If there is a single commonality the queens share that I think matters, it is that, at one point, we trusted each other with our lives... and nearly died for one another." He propped his chin on an elbow. "As much as I don't like some of them... they are the people I trust the most."

Louise repeated Zander's words in her mind: _People I trust the most―trust each other with our lives__―died for one another._

Before she could say anything, the classroom's doors opened once again, this time admitting a plump, brown-haired woman in dark purple robes. The woman wore a friendly smile that turned to surprise when she saw Zander. However, she said nothing about his presence, and instead approached the front of the classroom. "Greetings, my second-year students," she spoke aloud. "I am Professor Chevreuse. This class will teach you about the different parts of magic.

"Can someone tell me what the elements are?"

A boy raised his hand. "Fire, water, wind, earth and void."

"Correct. In my opinion, earth is the most important of them all. Without earth magic, we would not be able to produce or process metals, raise buildings from stone, or harvest crops efficiently. Earth magic is involved in everyone's life, whether you know it or not."

She produced lumps of stone from her bag and placed them atop a wooden dais in the front of the classroom. With a long, thin stick produced from her pocket, she made an obscure motion with her hand, and the stones changed. There was a soft murmur in the room. The Professor smiled proudly. "As you can see, earth magic is capable of transmuting stone into metals and other earthly materials. As a triangle mage, I am easily capable of turning stone into brass. And if you all practice, you can do the same.

"Now: who would like to try?"

Silence. Louise felt eyes turn to her, seeking to humiliate her. The man beside her prevented anyone from speaking. Sensing a strange tension in the room, the Professor picked the most interesting member in the class.

"You there," she said, pointing to Zander. "What is your name, young man?"

Zander raised a brow at being called a 'young man.' "Zander, Professor."

"You seem a little too old to be a student."

"I was summoned by Miss Vallière yesterday," he answered. "I asked her if I could attend classes with her out of curiosity, and she has allowed me to. I hope I am not disturbing everyone."

"Not quite, I suppose. Can you perform magic?"

"Yes, Professor."

"How about you show us your transmutation? Turn this," she gestured to the lumps of brass on the dais, "into copper."

"Understood." Zander rose, drawing the attention of the class. His white cloak swished in his wake. "Copper, you said? Is there is a specific form you want?"

"Do what you can," Professor Chevreuse said kindly.

Zander nodded. With a motion of his wrist, as if he was brushing off another hand, the lumps of brass atop the dais twisted, molding like clay. It lengthened quickly, and the Professor drew back with a startled gasp. Before Louise's rapt gaze, the lumps of brass not even the size of a fist became a copper long sword. She focused on the sword as the Professor laughed lightly.

"Very nice, Mr. Zander. Do you see, class? That is how a transmutation is done."

However, no one was listening. No, the students were watching Zander return to his seat, their faces paling. The collective atmosphere was summarized by a single boy's outcry: "Louise summoned a mage!"

It was simple to disregard rumors about a man who could transform into a dragon, or a man who could summon a blade to his hand with a snap of his fingers. It was entirely impossible to deny a simple transmutation taking place in front of one's eyes. And as Louise tensed her shoulders under the sudden attention she was receiving, Zander watched the shocked faces of her classmates with growing curiosity.

Was summoning a mage such a strange phenomenon?

* * *

_a/n: Still alive. I'm out looking for an internship and stuff, so naturally I'm writing less here. Hope you enjoy this chapter._


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